


Lost

by Turtlewatcher



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Grieving, In canon universe, It's not not hate sex, M/M, Past Armin/Eren - Freeform, Past Reiner/Bertolt, Reiner POV, Sad, Unhealthy Coping, manga current
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:22:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27311131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turtlewatcher/pseuds/Turtlewatcher
Summary: Reiner and Armin are not handling the present (or the past for that matter) well.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Reiner Braun
Comments: 5
Kudos: 60





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot emphasize this enough: it's not a happy drabble and there is no nice ending. 
> 
> I know I write fluff basically exclusively, but this idea came to me in the night a few weeks ago and I decided I wanted to go ahead and post it, so why not Halloween?

He was gentle, but was not him.

His moans were quiet like his had been and he cradled Reiner’s face, just like Reiner had asked him to. It was not even close to the same. 

Reiner doubted if he was much closer to what Armin wanted either. Further, even, probably. 

Somewhere, if he closed his eyes hard enough, Reiner could pluck up the memory of that time. The first time. Their only time. 

Somewhere, tiny pieces of the first love, the last love, of his life were buried in the lithe body beneath him. 

But love was a privilege they had never been afforded. Maybe losing him was his punishment for daring to feel such things. He had been youthfully ignorant at the time; convinced that they might have more time together.

Armin was not the same. Too short, too narrow, and too not him. Not that it mattered anymore. Reiner couldn’t for the life of him figure out what had compelled the former to agree to this. Was it all just desperation? It was the end, after all. Win or lose, their worlds were both lost.

He had made requests of Reiner, too. Pull his hair. Bite his neck. Reiner did not ask who Armin pictured behind his lids that were squeezed shut so tight. Reiner had no doubt that it was not him. He had his suspicions but kept them to himself. There were more important things to imagine.

Like being the worst idiot of a teenager and fucking your best friend. Could he see Reiner or was he truly only a memory now? If he was somewhere, out there, wherever 'there' was, would he hate him for the way he clung to Armin in this moment? Could he understand?

Tears on Armin’s cheek brought it all to a screeching halt. He might not be _him_ , or even a friend at this point, but Reiner was not heartless. If anything, he had always been too soft.

“Are you… ok?”

Armin sniffled but did not bother to wipe his face.

“Fucking great,” he muttered sarcastically, “Keep going.”

Reiner would give the world not to understand exactly what he meant. 

Fucked as they both may be, something was working if the sounds falling between them were anything to go by. It was getting more difficult to cling to his ancient and crumbling memory. Lines were blurring. This was bad. Their eyes met. 

This was _bad_. His eyes had not been blue. It was all wrong. It was too late. He was -

“Fuck,” Reiner breathed, pulling Armin’s hair so hard it had to hurt like hell. Reiner was as close to _him_ as he was ever going to be again, if you believed in that sort of thing. At the same time, it was the furthest he had ever been. Armin groaned and followed. 

Nothing about this was the same. Reiner had thought he could find relief, but all he found was guilt. Emptiness. 

“This was a bad idea,” he mumbled, sliding his pants back where they belonged. Where they should have stayed in the first place.

“Horrible,” Armin agreed.

“Do you think he can see us?”

Blue eyes pinned Reiner.

“Which ‘he’?”

So Armin was perfectly aware, then, what Reiner had been doing. Frankly, he would have been far more surprised if Armin had _not_ caught on. Reiner scoffed.

“I don’t know, maybe the one who is still alive and stalking our every move, although fuck knows how.” 

Armin glared, hard and icy, but Reiner could tell it was not meant for him. None of this was.

“I hope so,” was all Armin said before turning and leaving. 

Reiner had thought he was the one using Armin, but now he saw just how much he had been played. Wherever Bertolt was, it wasn’t anywhere in that cold stare. Maybe, if Reiner was lucky, Eren would kill him first for this. He hoped beyond hope that the afterlife was nothing more than a myth. Or, at the very least, that Hell might be less tormenting than Paradis.


End file.
